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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27236803">That's a fine looking high horse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Dewey/pseuds/Honey_Dewey'>Honey_Dewey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Child abuse if you squint, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt is not a fancy man, Horseback Riding, Horseback Riding AU, Jaskier is a fancy man, M/M, Past Pain, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:27:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,379</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27236803</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Dewey/pseuds/Honey_Dewey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian A. Pankratz was one of the best young riders in the country. He won almost every competition he rode in and he loved his horse, Bonnie, very much. But his father sends him down south to compete in a series of competitions at Kaer Morhen stables. </p><p>Geralt de Rivia had a past with horses. He loved his work horse, Roach, but he refused to ride. He also didn't want the snobby riding brats in his dad's stables, but that wasn't his choice. </p><p>Destiny has brought these two fools together, now let's see how long it takes before they realize they're in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I blame Tumblr and Equestrian Tik Tok. </p><p>Some chapters will be split in half so both of our pining fools can have a perspective in one chapter. Despite that, I will be making this the slowest burn I've ever written. I am not sorry. </p><p>The title is also a work in progress. It may change, it may not.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Julian!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier looked up from where he was situated in the barn’s loft, legs dangling fifteen feet above the hay bales. “Yeah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come here!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grumbling and shoving his book into his pocket, Jaskier shimmied down the loft’s ladder. It took him all of a minute before he was back on the ground. His riding instructor, an often stern but still wonderful woman by the name of Yennefer, was waiting for him. “You aren’t even dressed properly.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on!” Jaskier looked down at himself. True, he was bundled up in a huge hoodie, but it was autumn! He was allowed to wear it as long as he wasn’t riding. Apart from the hoodie, Jaskier was dressed to ride, from his boots to his breeches. “This seems fine. Plus, it’s damn cold out!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yennefer raised an eyebrow, but simply gestured to the arena. His horse, Bonnie, was waiting for him, and he smoothly swung up into her saddle. Bonnie was a gem, and had almost not been Jaskier’s horse. But plenty of begging and pleading had gotten his father to change his mind, and just like that, Jaskier had rescued his eventing horse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bonnie was something special. She may have looked just like every other dappled grey Hanoverian horse, but she had spunk. It was a spunk that only Jaskier could match and tame. Between her enthusiasm and his joy, they were a force to be reckoned with in competitions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take a few rounds,” Yennefer said, looking over a paper on a clipboard. “Then we’ll work on your eventing skills.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier didn’t need to be told twice. He nudged Bonnie on, quickly bringing her to a steady trot. She moved fluidly underneath him, and he worked with her rhythm to find the balance he needed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, they stopped, Yennefer gesturing him into the middle of the arena. “You’ve been requested down south. It’s a two day trip, and hardly worth it. A parade and competition in a town so obscure Google hasn’t even heard of it. But your father is confident you’ll win the competition, so he’s sending you. The competition is mostly a crude grab bag of individual events. Honestly,” she sighed, looking up from the clipboard. “I don’t know why you’re going. This town is so rural south that you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb. And the prize isn’t worth it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier rubbed Bonnie’s neck. “I wanna go,” he decided firmly. “It sounds fun.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yennefer sighed. “Your choice,” she conceded, stepping back. “Now, let’s work on your jumping before we talk details about the trip.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt was screwed. He gave the wheelbarrow another steady shove up the hill, grunting as it resisted. He’d foolishly overfilled it, and was now paying the price as he attempted to push the offending wheelbarrow up a hill. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Need help?” One of his brothers asked, standing exactly where Geralt was trying to get to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off Lambert.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ouch.” Lambert smiled and walked beside Geralt. “That hurt.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt grunted again, finally cresting the hill and wiping his sweat stained brow. “What are you doing?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lambert clapped Geralt’s shoulder. “Relieving you of your duties. Dad needs you to clear out the eventing stables for next week’s stuff. Eskel’s already cleaning up the actual arena, but the stables are all you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Giving Lambert a very big middle finger, Geralt headed off to the eventing stables. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Years ago, Kaer Morhen ranch and stables was a hive of riding activity. Competitions were near weekly, and maintaining the area had been easy with a plethora of volunteers and employees. Geralt could vaguely remember that time. He’d been about six or seven when he’d been adopted by Vesemir and taken in. He could still remember the first competition he ever attended. Sitting on the sides, watching people ride with seemingly no effort at all, it had been astonishing. Twenty four year later, and the magic had kind of died off. Now, the once full stables were empty, save for one of three buildings. The eventing stables were used once a year, to house the various visitors as they competed in the town’s eventing competitions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt sighed, gathering the cleaning supplies and getting to work. It was hard, but he liked the numb routine of it all. Finally, once each stall was cleaned to his standard, he moved to the empty tack room. His muscles ached as he sat down at a small desk to look over the list of participants and make chalk signs for each horse. Fourteen visitors and twenty three people competing. It was the largest turnout in years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Geralt reached the bottom of the list, he realized why. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Pankratz name was big in horse eventing. The youngest son was practically a prodigy. Vesemir had been asking for him to come out and compete for years now. Apparently, this year was the year he said yes. And if someone from a tiny town in the middle of nowhere could claim they beat the great Julian A. Pankratz in a riding event, then it would be game over for the family name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Picking up the last chalkboard and a blue stick of chalk, Geralt wrote down ‘Bonnie and Julian’ in his messy handwriting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And if he hung that chalk sign on his favorite stall in the building, well then. That was his business. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jaskier arrives at Kaer Morhen stables early, and starts to get himself acquainted to rural life. </p><p>Geralt wonders if this new rider is really worth all the hype around his name. </p><p>Vesemir, Eskel, and Lambert start to make bets on how long it'll take before these fools realize they have crushes on each other.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Huzzah! The boys meet!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The air was warm when Jaskier stepped out of the truck. They were much farther south than Jaskier had ever really gone, but he loved it. It was a brand new adventure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” Jaskier waved and smiled at an older man walking around the nearly abandoned land. “Are you Mr. Vesemir?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please.” The man stepped up and shook Jaskier’s hand. “Just Vesemir will work. We ain’t too formal around here. I take it you’re here for the competition?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded. “Yep! I’m Jaskier. Am I early?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vesemir laughed, waving down two boys who were coming out of one of the stables. “Yeah, but we don’t mind the company. Jaskier, these are my boys, Eskel, Lambert, and it seems Geralt is probably still asleep.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Jaskier shuffled his feet. It was past noon. His father had instilled in him a proper time to wake up, and he always abided by that. “That’s okay! I can meet him later. But for now, Bonnie should probably stretch her legs. We’ve come a long way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vesemir nodded, gesturing for Eskel and Lambert to help Jaskier. They were very kind, and let Jaskier handle Bonnie as she stepped out of the trailer and showed her around a tiny bit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s shy,” Jaskier explained, patting Bonnie as Eskel stroked her nose. “Poor baby hasn’t had a good past. But she’s well loved by me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lambert came jogging up, slightly out of breath. “Geralt set everything up last night. Food, water, bedding, the whole shebang.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snorting, Eskel pulled away from Bonnie. “Then let’s get the lady set up, and Jaskier, we’ll show you where to leave your trailer and truck. Did you see him at all?” The last question was aimed at Lambert, who shrugged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s probably out with Roach.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took a few minutes to get Bonnie in her designated stall, and eventually, it was just her and Jaskier. She had settled, finally, and he was stretched out across the hay, one earbud in. It was only when something made a prominent noise and spooked Bonnie that Jaskier sat up and began to investigate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found an empty tack room, tucked away in a corner, beside three wash stalls. There was someone asleep on the desk in the tack room, slumped over a book. Not wanting to get severely injured, Jaskier flagged down Lambert, who happened to be passing by. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this Geralt?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lambert peered into the tack room and laughed. “Well shit. Yeah it is. Guess the tired bastard passed out here last night. Or this morning. Either way.” Lambert gave Geralt’s shoulder a shove. “Up and at ‘em, sunshine! Let’s go.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt snapped awake, blindly swinging and smacking Lambert in the hip. “Fuck off, you absolute sack of horse-“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Watch your mouth, we have a guest!” Lambert teased, pointing to a suddenly meek Jaskier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt grumbled something under his breath and stretched. “I’m taking Roach out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s busy!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m taking her anyway.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier watched Geralt go, eyes wide. “Wow.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Lambert leaned against the doorframe. “He’s kind of a prick. He might warm to you though, all things considered. You’re super early and Geralt doesn’t ride. Vesemir might have him watch you or something.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t ride?” Jaskier shook his head out of the gutter it had gone into once Geralt had turned around and he followed Lambert out, towards the only occupied stable. “But he said he was taking Roach.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lambert nodded. “Roach is a workhorse. Big girl, Clydesdale, I think. She’s Geralt’s horse through and through. She mostly pulls stuff out in the fields. Geralt stopped riding, oh, seven years ago? No one but Vesemir really knows why.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, watching a horse push her nose out of her stall and absently petting it. “But he did ride.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Lambert picked up a bucket and sponge. “Best rider in the town. Rode a different horse back then too, although if I’m not wrong, that horse was also named Roach. Won all sorts of stuff. He was a big jack of all trades kind of rider.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Jaskier looked out into the field, where he could see a very small Geralt leading a horse around. “Do you guys have a cross country course?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lambert shrugged. “Yeah. Haven’t been cleaned in years though. Probably kinda dirty.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay.” Jaskier tore his eyes off Geralt and blinked a few times. “Would you mind showing me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Half an hour later, Jaskier was sitting on Bonnie at the opening of the course, looking out at the jumps. He took a deep breath, putting his phone securely in a plastic baggie in an inner breast pocket. Lambert said the course had a lake, and Jaskier wasn’t taking chances. He put his wireless earbuds in and exhaled deeply. There was no pressure to be perfect when he practiced. No pressure when he rode to relax. He gave Bonnie’s side a nudge and prepared himself to ride. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thunder of hooves made Geralt look up from his work, confused. No one was set to ride the cross country course, it hadn’t been inspected in ages. And yet, there was someone on it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The course passed by the field Geralt was in twice. Once was a slight glimpse, and the other ran right through the middle. The portion Geralt could see well had three handmade jumps. One was a chevron jump, one was stacked logs with a water-filled ditch in front of it, and the final one, which was the final jump on the course, was a keyhole jump. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beating hooves made Geralt look up, staring at the turn he knew had a corner jump. Coming out from behind the trees was Julian, his horse underneath him. As they approached the first jump, Geralt noticed that they moved together. There was a high degree of trust in their relationship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The horse and Julian took the chevron jump with ease, Julian moving with textbook accuracy. Geralt breathed out. Riding like this, it was easy to see why Julian was an award winning rider. He was perfection on a saddle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The second jump was cleared just as easily, and Julian finally realized he had an audience. As he approached the keyhole jump, he waved, smiling widely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t wave back. He was too busy watching Julian in complete awe as he jumped the keyhole. Once they were cleared, Julian tugged his horse to a trot, coming over to where Geralt was standing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Julian pulled an earbud out and pocketed it. “Sorry about this morning. We got off on the wrong foot. I’m Jaskier!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt.” Geralt gestured to Jaskier’s horse. “Is this Bonnie?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier dismounted, sliding off with practiced ease. “Yeah. And I take it this is Roach?” He reached out to stroke Roach’s nose. “She’s a big girl!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Geralt shuffled from one foot to the other. “She is.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does she see riders?” Jaskier asked, purely curious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt shook his head. “Not often.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Jaskier nodded, walking back over to Bonnie. “I’m going to go clean Bonnie up. I’ll see you later!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt watched him go, face warm. He turned back to Roach and sighed. “C’mon girl. Let’s get you back into your stall.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He led Roach back up the hill, passing Eskel as he went. “Can you take Scorpion out and do a sweep of the cross trail?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Eskel seemed confused. “Why?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier rode it today.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Eskel smiled. “Was he good?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt felt his neck turn warm. “For a city rider.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eskel laughed. “Mhm, sure. I’ll go get Scorpion and take a look. Dad wants you in the house, by the way. Something about dinner?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Geralt handed him Roach’s lead. “Can you take her?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep.” Eskel patted Roach’s side. “C’mon big girl, let’s get you all comfy now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt took one last look into the visitor’s stable, where Jaskier was grabbing a sponge, before he ducked into the house, his ears burning. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes Jaskier stared at Geralt's ass within the first five minutes of them meeting. No he isn't really ashamed about it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Post-ride, Jaskier gets used to living in a house with that many other people and struggles with homesickness. </p><p>Geralt gets no perspective this chapter, oops.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ah! A new chapter! How unexpected!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>By the time Jaskier was done washing the sweat and mud off of Bonnie, it had started to rain. He didn’t mind. In fact, he quite enjoyed it. He put his phone out, blasting one of his playlists, hoping no one minded. As he grabbed his hoof pick, someone came out into the stable, completely soaked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier?” Eskel said, wiping his face. “Jaskier?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier turned his music off and turned to Eskel. “What’s up?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s time to come in,” Eskel said. “C’mon, if you're out here much longer, you’ll get sick.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Jaskier held up his hoof pick. “Just two minutes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As promised, it only took him a few minutes to clean Bonnie’s hooves out and put her away in her stall. Jaskier left her with a kiss on the nose before he dashed out to the house with Eskel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Boots off!” Vesemir called, addressing the two boys standing, dripping wet, in his mudroom. “Go shower before dinner please. Eskel, if you could show Jaskier his room.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got it Dad!” Eskel pulled his boots off and Jaskier did the same. “C’mon, let’s bathe before Dad has a fit.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He showed Jaskier where his room was first. It was in the basement, but seemed warm and cozy anyway. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bathroom is across the hall,” Eskel said, opening up a hall closet and handing Jaskier a towel. “Don’t use all the hot water. You get ten minutes, tops.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded. His post-ride showers were usually twenty minutes, but that was because he liked to soak in the heat. “Got it. When’s dinner?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whenever Dad and Geralt finish.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just like that, Jaskier was alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He set a timer for his shower, not trusting himself to take a short one naturally. He scrubbed his skin, trying to remove the layer of sweat and grime he had collected outside. Thankfully, he was already soaking wet from the rain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he was finished, Jaskier headed back to his room and tugged his laptop from his bag. He had an email from Yennefer, asking him if he had arrived safely. He responded and laid back on his bed, trying to get rid of the ache in his heart. He missed home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Twenty minutes later, Lambert came down, knocking on his door and telling him dinner was ready. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, c’mon, we’re eating.” Lambert poked his head into Jaskier’s room and immediately froze. “You okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier shrugged. “Just tired,” he rasped out softly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lambert clearly didn’t believe him, but didn’t push the issue as Jaskier followed him up the stairs and into the dining room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good to see you Jaskier,” Vesemir said from where he was putting scoops of chili unto bowls. “Geralt told me you rode the cross country trail today.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Jaskier said, standing in the corner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vesemir turned, handing Geralt the ladle. “Are you okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, and then immediately shook his head, beginning to tear up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought so,” Vesemir said, tugging Jaskier into a hug. “It’s okay son, let it out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier sobbed, clutching Vesemir’s shirt and letting his knees buckle. He was exhausted, he missed his home, and he desperately wanted his mother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vesemir rubbed his back, carefully placing Jaskier on the couch and gesturing Eskel closer. “Why don’t we eat here tonight, okay? Eskel’s gonna take my place, and I’ll be right back with some dinner.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eskel was a pretty nice cuddler, and when Lambert joined in, Jaskier found himself sobbing even harder. He was an only child, and had always longed silently for a sibling. This, it seemed, would have to work for now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ain't nothing fancy,” Vesemir said softly, carrying three bowls of chili. “But it’s warm.”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier didn’t mind, and he ate silently, a tear or two occasionally tracing down his cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, nestling closer to Eskel. “I didn’t mean to bother you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier,” Eskel said, ruffling through Jaskier’s hair. “You aren’t bothering us, I promise.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They gently encouraged Jaskier to eat. It was some of the best damn chili Jaskier had ever had, full of spices and warming him to his core. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How about we watch a movie?” Vesemir suggested, taking Jaskier’s empty bowl. “We have a couple, but they’re all pretty old.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier peered up at the movie collection, immediately making up his mind. “Star Wars.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Lambert asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s what you pick?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never seen it,” Jaskier argued softly, wiping his nose. “Father always said movies were frivolous and a waste of time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Complete silence, and then Lambert spoke up. “Wait. Does that mean you don’t know?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Know what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lambert sat up, a huge grin on his face. “Holy shit y’all. We might have the only untainted adult on the planet! He doesn’t know!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” Eskel breathed. “Cue up the movie. I can’t wait to see this!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which was how they ended up watching Star Wars until the sun set. Geralt, tucked into a rocking armchair, had started crocheting halfway through movie one, which Jaskier learned was technically movie four. He started to drift off sometime during movie two but technically five, still paying attention, but his head drifted to Eskel’s shoulder and his eyes began to droop. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Lambert gave Jaskier a soft nudge. “This is the good part!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nodded, focusing in on the screen. “Oh hell,” he mumbled, watching Darth Vader cut off Luke’s hand. He sat up, suddenly interested. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just wait,” Lambert said, in an almost giddy tone. “Oh just wait.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the one part that apparently everyone had been waiting for, Jaskier shot upright, his blanket falling off his shoulders. ‘What! What the hell! Oh my, what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lambert laughed, nearly falling off the couch. Vesemir, much calmer, simply paused the film. “Lambert, sit up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eskel smiled, tugging Jaskier back to his side. “That’s the big twist in this movie.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This movie?” Jaskier asked eagerly. “What about the next movie?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lambert, who still hadn’t recovered, sat back on the couch. “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t wanna wait!” Jaskier said eagerly. “This is fun!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vesemir shook his head. “No. We’ll finish this one, and we can watch the next one tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes dad,” Eskel and Lambert both said. Jaskier simply nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, he ended up falling asleep during the end of the movie. After the adrenaline of the movie’s twist, Jaskier quickly fell, his entire body feeling loose and weightless. He vaguely recognized being scooped up, cradled in someone’s arms and carried to the guest room. It was only after they’d descended the stairs that Jaskier realized that whoever was carrying him wasn’t Eskel or Lambert. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Geralt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier, thankfully, wasn’t coherent enough to wake fully. Instead, he just rolled closer towards the source of heat. Geralt’s chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was gently placed down in the bed, wrapped in blankets, and given a very soft “Good night.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier rolled over, onto his stomach, and sighed into the unfamiliar-smelling sheets. Today had been good. Tomorrow, he’d have to compose an email to Yennefer about the competition and how the stables were, but for now, Jaskier was free to dream. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Can confirm, that’s how I reacted to The Twist in Star Wars. That’s how many people reacted to The Twist</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If anyone actually rides horses, please feel free to yell at me via the comments. I haven't ridden a horse in almost nine (?) years now. My knowledge of how this works is based on books and the internet.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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